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SERMON 



ON THE DEATH OF 



LIEUT. SYLVESTER ROGERS, 



SON OF 



FREEMAN S. ROGERS, OF NASHUA, 



Who was killed in the Battle of August 29ih, 1862, near Bull Run. 



BY REV THOMAS GORMAN, 

Preached on Sunday, Septemher 28, at the Universalist Church, Nashua. 



NASHUA: 



PRINTED AT N. H 



TEIiEOBAPH OFFICE. 



1862. 



^%^ 

"y 



A 




SERMON 



ON THE DEATH OF 



LIEUT. SYLYESTER ROGERS, 



SOX OP 



FREEMAN S. EOGERS, OF NASHUA, 



Who was killed in the Battle of August 29th, 1862, near Bull Run. 






BY KEY THOMAS GORMAN, 

Preached on Sunday, September 28, at the Universalist Church, Nashua. 



NASHUA; 

J.' R I \ !• £ J> i l- X . H . T E T, F. a £ ,\. ? H F ? I fc ■! « 

1«GV. 



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SERMON. 



" I HA.VE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT." II. TiM. IV : VII. 

St. Paul used these words in a figure. I take them on the 
present occasion in a literal sense — as language befitting to 
put into the mouth of one fallen upon the battle-field and in 
the service of his country. In their widest sense they may 
be taken as the motto, nay, the solemn, closing hymn of sac- 
rifice and victory for every life, conspicuous or humble, 
which is given and spent in a sacred sense of duty in the 
place of the Divine appointment. It may be spent as grand- 
ly as Paul's was ; in perils by land and sea j in prisons and 
chains ; in scourgings and stonings, — it may be sacrified 
upon the altar of patriotism upon the field of conflict ; or it 
may be peacefully spent in homely toils and duties, unnotic- 
ed and lost in the great whirl of life and the confused cur- 
rents that bear us all onward to that great breathless, wait- 
ing mystery of eternity before us ; it is alike sacred and hon- 
ored before God in all spheres and stations^ if only is found in 
ii.t the consecratinsr sense of dutv. 



Life, at the very best, is a warfare ; and the battle-field 
has no dangers too terrible to give emblems of what men 
and women encounter in the c^reat strusrsrle of the world. — 
Indeed, life is one long battle between good and evil. AH 
there is noble in human history is comprised in the victories 
of right over wrong ; of truth over falsehood. All that has 
been achieved, all that we hold sacred to-day in government, 
in religion, in individual liberty, are only trophies of that 
great fight carried on from age to age, where the children of 
light contend against the legions of darkness and the king- 
dom of God gains victories over rebel principalities and 
powers and wickedness aspiring to high places. If we could 
trace but the least of all those blessings we enjoy as a Chris- 
tian people to-day, we should find it going back thi'ough 
long generations to remotest times, and along the way we 
should find thousands of sacrifices and blood poured out like 
water for its puixhase. If an Omnipotent Hand should lift 
but one of those glorious principles, of which Free Institu- 
tions are the fruit, and hold it up to our view, we should see 
the whole human race clinging to its roots. Its fibres run 
into all the institutions of the past and clasp the bones of 
dead generations back to Adam. Everything valued and 
cherished in our modern civilization has been fought for, 
has been suffered for, has cost the noblest sacrifices. This 
is what has given such sublime significance in Christianity 
to the word saaijicc. From Him, who gave his life on Cal- 
vary in this great battle of good against e^il in the world, to 
the humblest human being, who, amid the phantoms of 
temptation around him, sees dimly the shining image of duty 
and follows it, as best he can, we instinctively honor and 
glorify all, who have, by their lives or by their deaths, help- 
ed on humanity in the divine progress of liberty, knowledge, 
justice and truth. He has fought the good fight, who has struck 
even one blow asrainst the enemies of man and has fallen in 
his place of duty with his face to the foe. The common 
good of the race is built up from these individual sacrifice?,, 
and all men have an interest in honoring them. 



5 

This is the reason, my friends, that we are all here as 
mourners at this time. We have come here with one ac- 
cord to honor with appropriate religous rites one of the noblest 
sacrifices which can be made by any hnman being. While 
we deeply sympathize with these bereaved families in the 
loss they have sustained in the death of one so near and 

j dear to them, let us remember that we are not uninterested 
spectators. We have an interest in this event. This young- 
man, who has nobly given up his life upon the battle-field, 
impelled by a sense of duty to serve his country, is related 

i to us all by having sacrificed himself for the common good. 

Hehas UteraUij fought a good fight and fallen in defence of 

I principles^and institutions which have made our country 

what it is, a blessed home for us all, the common asylum of 

humanity and the great strong-hold of civil and religious 

liberty in the world. There is not one of us here present, 

who has enjoyed peace and safety since the land has been 

' convulsed with this terrible civil strife, but owes honor and 

' reverence to those men, who, at the peril of their lives — 

and thousands unth their lives — have defended our threateu- 

/ ed institutions and left it still in our power to say that we 

/ have a government and a nationality. And especially when 
it comes so nearly home to you, who knew Lieut. Rogers — 

, and many of you knew him intimately — it should seem to us 
a personal bereavement and loss, as it certainly is a public 
one. Yes ; by this common interest we all have in the cause 

, for which he has fallen, we are all mourners here to day. — 
We come, not merely to sympathize with those who have 
lost a son, a husband, a brother, but to mourn with them ; 
not to obtrude upon the sacredness of private sorrow, but to 
share with them a mutual grief. We come under the sol- 
emn sanctions of religion to embalm his memory and to hon- 
or his sacrifice. 

The little that is left us to do at this time renders this ser- 
vice the more mournful and affecting. One of the saddest, 
yet most satisfying consolations to bereaved aff"ection consists 
in paying the last tender offices of respect and duty to thvj 



6 

remains of those we love. It is a solace whicli many of you 
/ sadly rcniembor, to have looked upon a dear and cherished 
face when deatli had left its grand and awful impress upon 
it ; to have realized from the calm grandeur of mortality, 
when that breathless mystery has come upon it, some- 
thing of the unruffled peace and quietude which await the 
soul after the fever and confusion of life. The heart takes, 
I know not what mournful pleasure, in those little duties of 
affection customary at those times — not serviceable to the 
dead we know — yet done by us, as if they would be pleasing 
to them, if they were conscious still of our affection and re- 
spect. It is a satisfaction not to be lightly valued to know 
where they rest ; to go at times, chosen by the heart, to their 
graves; and to shed sweet tears of regret at their memory. 
It is a comfort you could not purchase from bereaved affec- 
tion, to rear a memorial stone lettered with the name and age 
of the beloved one, and to dress the spot with fragrant turf 
and sow there the seeds of some familiar flowers. I know 
' that there are feet in this congregation which have learned 
the sweet habitude of going to a grave, and hands that have 
done angel ministries of fondness and beauty at some little 
spot in the church-yard. Can you tell how much would buy 
from you those little privileges and offices ? And even if you 
feel that they afford, as it were, but a mechanical solace to the 
heart, still what a loss would it be if they were taken away ! 

This is the loss and vacancy which we all of us feel at this 
itime. Something seems wanting to complete the solemnities 
of this occasion. Your eyes tiurn in vain to behold the cus- 
*tomary tokens of death. We have no coffin decked with the 
" -emblems of mourning. The patriotic pride of our citizens 
in one of their number, fallen so nobly and honorably on the 
field of battle, would have demanded a different and more 
imposing service than we are now able to perform. A more 
public place would have received his remains ; the flag of 
our country Avould have covered them ; and a greater con- 
/course Avould have followed tlicm with mournful strains of 



lit 
t 



/ martial music and with reverent footsteps to their honored 
resting-place. All this is denied us. We can only sadly 1 
think of him, as resting where he fell, hastily buried upon ' 
the bloody field. Far away, beyond the Potomac, we may 
imagine him Bleeping among the undistinguished thousands 
who fell upon that fatal day, the 29th. of August. The 
place has not the quiet beauty and peacefalness of our ceme- 
teries. You may see there the long ridges of freshly heaped 
earth, where the slain are buried. The trees are scarred and 
torn by the shot ; and the ground is still gashed by the wheels 
of the artillery and the hoofs of war-horses. There he lies, 
having fought a good fight and done noble service for our 
coxmtry and for us all. We have now only to imitate the 
gentle ministry of nature. For mark ! — another Spring will 
sweeten that bloody field with the breath of flowers, and with 
delicate fingers will cover the unsightly work of human pas- 
sion, and will extract beauty even out of the bosom of de- 
cay. And may the Infinite Lord of pity as gently heal the 
wounded hearts that bleed to-day and in every nook and cor- 
ner of memory and affection sow the seeds of healing and 
consolation to bloom towards heaven. It is not permitted 
these mourning friends to recover that torn and bloody gar- 
ment of an immortal soul ; but it is given them to know that / 
the one they moui-n has nobly done his duty and fallen at a ; 
time and place where it was glorious to die. They may not 
gather up his dust and bury it in a spot chosen and hallowed 
by affe(«Mi ; but it is given them still to bury him in their 
hearts 9^ consecrate his memory. 

It is a beautiful custom, too, at such a time to recall what 
is noble and virtuous in the character of the departed and to 
gather up the little personal recollections that represent to us 
the living image of their minds. If we could do this only 
where we found perfection, we should wait in vain. But it 
is one of the solemn ministries of death, that it rebukes all 
uncharitableness. You never can utter reproach or blame, 
where there is only the awful and breathless silence of death 




8 

to aliswcr you. You ciui follow a human being to 
that dark door, through which all must pass, only 
with reverent feet. Nay, the perpetual impulse of 
the heart is to idealize and glorify them ; and it is 
riffht. It is the voice of Nature and of God. 

It is unnecessary for me to speak of Lieut. Eog- 
ers, as he was known to the most of you. It is not 
for a stranger to do this. What is left me is to gath- 
er scanty memorials from his letters and the testimo- 
ny of his friends. It is permitted me to say of him, 
^ in the walks of civil life, that he was a young man, 
not without faults, but yet of noble, generous nature, 
capable of redeeming all imperfections and giving 
/, promise of the highest usefulness as a man and a cit- 
/ izen. His was one of those dispositions that move 
strongly in whatever path circumstances open to 
them. Impulsive and strong-willed, it was all-impor- 
tant what his choice might be in life. He had made 
that choice. He had opened for himself the door of 
a useful and honorable career. He had chosen the 
laborious and truly noble profession of a physician 
and studied hard and earnestly to fit himself for its 
duties. The impulsiveness and waywardness of youth 
had given place to the earnestness and stamlity of 
manhood ; and he had given reason to his friends to 
indulge the warmest hopes and anticipations for his 
future. Thus he stood upon the very threshold of 
life, when the alarm of war rung through the land. 
We all remember that wave of intense enthusiasm 
which swept over the countr}', when it was known 
that our institutions were in peril and rebel hands were 
impiously laid upon the palladium of all that we hold 
sacred xmder the nnmc of the T'nion. Thousands of 



yoiilig men sptang to arms. Every village gl'een be* 
came a parade ground, and the entire North, was turn- 
ed into a camp. It seemed the mustering drum-beat 
of the people's heart, summoning all that was manly 
within them to the defence of what was most sacred. 
He Was one of the first among that young and ardent 
multitude who went forth as the advance of those 
myriads who have followed to the war. I seem to see 
that long and melancholy train, thousands upon 
thousands, passing away into the distance until they 
vanish in the glooms of death I What sacrifices are ^ 
there ; what hopes are blighted ; what homes are 
desolated and darkened, as those thinning ranks 
close nobly up the gaps of battle and press forward, 
"few and faint but fearless still," against the enemies 
of their country and of man ! What historian s pen, 
what poet's song, what orator's impassioned speech, 
will do adequate honor in future years to those young 
heroes and martyrs? 

I have heard men speak slightingly of the motives 
that animate the hearts of those who have gone forth 
to this terrible service and duty of war. But I be- 
lieve in all charity they are thoughtless utterances. 
It does not become those who stand afar off from the 
dangers of this civil conflict and whose interests are 
defended by the peril of other men's lives, to speak 
lightly of the characters and motives of those who 
are defending our threatened institutions. Wliatev- 
ever may be the outward bearing of a man exposed 
to the dangers of the battle-field, there is a sacred 
interior in every man's nature, where the motives 
that determine his conduct are to be weighed, and by 
them alone is his sacrifice to be estimated. I believe 
that, in the majority of those who have swollen our 

o 



10 

immense armies, there is a deep and pervading sense 
of duty, or an impulsive sense of patriotism, which 
sanctifies and consecrates their service. The most 
thoug-htless of men reahze that war is not the play 
of children, that it requires of them the costliest 
earthly sacrifices ; and the motives of men for im- 
periling their lives must not be estimated by their 
behavior in the lightness of common intercourse or 
the convialities of the Camj). 
Every man, w^Iio, at this hour of the counti^'s peril, 
offers his life to defend it, deser\'es a patriot's name 
and honor until proved unworthy. I believe that the 
seriousness of this contest has settled into the hearts 
of our people, that it has entered into our armies 
among the common soldiery and that the sacrifices, 
which this war costs us, are hallowed by motives 
which proclaim the immortal dignity of man. Why 
do parents give up their sons and wives their hus- 
bands, with the stern probabilities of war before 
them^ Is it a light motive ? Is it deserving of a 
sneer 1 I tell you these sacrifices are not made but 
from the most solemn sense of duty, from ardent love 
and devotion to our country. It is the obedience of 
a law of nature in us which has no explanation but 
in God Himself and which Religion sanctions and 
claims as the very proof of man's immortal worth. 
It is one of the brightest manifestations of charity, 
resembling, in the humble way of Humanity, the very 
sacrifice of Christ. It is one of the very sublimities 
of human nature, when a man is made to see that 
there is something better than life itself, for which 
life is a cheap exchange ; and by whatever name the 
feeling is called, it is sacred and honored of God and 
all good men. 



11 

It is for this reason that I pronounce honored and 
sacred the sacrifice before us. I claim it as offered 
to Humanity and therefore to God. This young life 
laid upon the altar of patriotism has a double conse- 
cration. It was consecrated in its own sense of duty 
and in the sacrifice of affection in the home that sent 
it forth. We are not to think all heroism is of 
the battle-field. How much precedes the terrible 
array of men in arms ! It is in the struggle of affec- 
tion which yields up at last its cherished object. It 
is in the parent's heart when it bids a son go forth to 
the dangers of war ; it is in the heart of the wife 
who gives up her husband with" tears ; it is in the tor- 
turing anxiety with which their thoughts follow the 
march, the encampment and the uncertain progress 
of war. And when at last the shock of the fatal 
news has come, not wholly unexpected, yet crushing 
in its terrible reality after all, and the long vacant 
years loom up in the future, uncheered by that cher- 
ished voice and presence, and the long sighs to be 
heaved at his memory through life begin to burst from 
the overloaded heart, we are able to gather a concep- 
tion of how much enters into such a patriotic sacri- 
fice and to see its value before God in a cause like 
that of our country. "I have fought a good fight,'" — is 
it little to say this for one who has fallen thus, in his 
country's service and .in the noble discharge of asol- 
oier's duty 1 

I have dwelt thus upon the spirit which animates 
our soldiers and our people, because we have a no- 
ble example of it in the life and character we are 
considering. In Lieut. Rogers we behold a patriotic 
sense of duty, leading him to give up the fairest pros- 
])ects in life, to sacrifice what seems hardest of all to 



1 «w 

yield, the comforts and delights of a home blest with 
unusual affection and rendered still dearer by a new 
relation, the strongest and most sacred on earth — and 
to undergo the privations of the Camp, and the wast- 
ing labors and dangers of war. Those who best 
knew him and were best acquainted with the motives 
which influenced his conduct, bear witness that no 
expectations of place or profit stood in the place of 
duty with him, Anxious to serve only in the station 
to which his merit promoted him or assigned him, he 
voluntarily relinquished the chances of a higher po- 
sition and took that of the lowest commissioned of- 
ficer in his Company. He labored faithfully to per- 
fect himself in the duties of his place and to fit himself 
for any place which the chances or promotions of 
war might assign him. To his worth and efficiency 
as an officer there is constant testimony. He was 
stanch and reliable in the hour of danger ; and his 
sense of duty was carried into minutest details of 
camp service. It was the testimony of his superior 
officers that when it came his turn to perform the 
extra duties of the camp, they were sure they would 
be faithfully done. His own exactness in his duties 
made him exacting of the men under his eommand. 
But this so far from creating aversion and dislike on 
their part, increased their respect and confidence. 
The most insubordinate will recognize the essential 
qualities of a good leader in the man who brings 
them up to their duty at all times and will look to him 
in the hour of danger. He himself relates in one of 
his letters over-hearing one of his Company who had 
least reason to like him for his severity, saying that 
"he could not help liking that llogers even if he was 
so strict with him." Testimonv like this shows the 



13 

blending in his character of the rare qualities which 
secure at once the love and the respect of even the 
worst men. 

But his care and consideration for his men at all 
times evince the kindliest feelings of heart. In camp 
or on the march, he w^as always attentive to the wants 
and comforts of his men. Those who have written 
home have spoken of his kindness with gratitude and 
affection. One writes as follows : "Such acts of 
kindness as we received on the march from Lieut. 
Rogers will long be remembered, always relieving 
his men w^ho falter by the way, carrying their guns 
or knapsacks and speaking kind and encouraging 
words." Another wTites : Our Company's health is 
good and we are much indebted for this to Lieut. Ro- 
gers. He, being a physician, gives us much good ad- 
vice and his words are always well received." It is 
most gratifying to gather such testimonies as these : 
for amid the rough scenes and associations of war 
such little humanities are easily neglected ; but when 
bestowed they are almost angel ministrations. By 
such pleasing tokens as these we understand the well- 
merited tribute to his character by Col. Marston : 
"His death is mourned, not only by the members of 
his own Company, by whom he was greatly beloved, 
but also by the officers and men of the whole regi- 
ment." 

It is not permitted me to speak of those deeper 
affections of the heart, by which a man is most inti- 
mately known and longest and most tenderly remem- 
bered. The sorrows of affection are sacred from 
the public gaze ; w^e may respect but we cannot 
share them. But a constant correspondence shows 
how much the thoughts of home were in his mind ; 



14 

;ni(l liow fondly, amid the dangers of war lie carried 
and cherished tlie images of loved ones in his heart. 
If I were to speak in fnll of the services which as 
a soldier, he has rendered to the country, I should 
trace almost the entire course of the war in Virginia 
from its commencement to the recent battles before 
Washington. lie was among the volunteers called 
out by the first proclamation of the President, and 
took part in the first great battle of the war, the dis- 
astrous en<i:a<irement of Bull Run. He was in the 
ijrand armv of the Potomac in its advance towards 
llichmond ; before Yorktown ; in the bloody conflict 
at Williamsburg ; and in most of that long series of 
battles from the Chickahomny to the James River. 
The 2d. N. H. Regiment won a glorious reputation 
for brilliant courage and daring in that sanguinary 
campaigii. Its hand-to-hand conflicts with the ene- 
my are among the bravest actions of the war and 
more than once contributed to the salvation of the 
army. And brave even among these brave men was 
the man we now honor and mourn. It was his lot, 
while holding but a lieutenant's commission, to com- 
mand and lead his Company a great share of the time 
during this campaign. It was the fatality of war and 
the will of Providence that he should lead it for the 
last time upon the very field where he fought his first 
battle. After the transportation of Gen. McClellan's 
army from the James River to the Potomac, his reg- 
iment Avas among those ordered to support the strug- 
gling columns of Pope and hurl back the enemy in 
their threatening advance upon the Capitol. They 
Avere engaged for two days upon the very field of the 
first battle of Bull Run. The regiment had been re- 
duced to a mere skeleton ; they were tJie relics of 



15 

many battles. His own Company numbered scarce 
more than thirty men. Young in years but veterans 
in service ; few in number but true as steel, they 
were relied upon for the most trying and hazardous 
emergencies. On Friday the 29th. of August, the en- 
tire brigade to which they belonged, the first brigade 
of Hooker's division, were ordered forward to make 
a bayonet charge upon the rebels in a piece of woods, 
where they were massing themselves for an attack. 
Forward they sprang with a shout, their ranks thin- 
ned at every step by a terrible discharge of musket- 
ry, never wavering, closing up the gaps in their ranks, 
and fell upon the enemy with the bayonet. Down 
went one line of the rebels before this terrible cliarge- 
Another closed up behind and ranged a bristling 
hedge of steel across their way. Upon this too they 
threw themselves, when even a third line came for- 
ward to dispute their advance. This was more than 
human strength and endurance could withstand and 
the wearied and decimated line wavered and recoiled. 
It was at this point that Lieut. Rogers fell while ral- 
lying and encouraging his men for another attack. 
He was shot through the body, the ball entering and 
passing through the left side, a little above the hip. 
Two men of his Company — privates Albert F. Bax- 
ter, and E. Dascomb — seeing him fall, took him up 
and carried him towards the rear, when he revived 
and with his last thought Still intent upon his duty, 
sent one of the men back to the Company and at- 
tempted to walk with the assistance of the other- 
He soon sank down, however, speechless and appar- 
ently dying. The enemy were pressing close upon 
them and his friends were obliged reluctantly to leave 
him. Absolute certainty cannot be obtained ; but it 



IB 

is most probable that his death was immediate. His 
body was identified and buried by the Medical Direc- 
tor, who went upon the fiold with a flag of truce for 
that purpose. Xo mark was left to distinguish the 
l)lacc where he was buried : and the mournful satis- 
faction is denied his family of recovering'his remains, 
and giving them appropriate burial. 

Thus fell in the service of his country Lieut. Syl- 
vester Rogers, at the age of twenty-four years, hon- 
ored and beloved by his companions in arms and hon- 
ored for his sacrifice by all who knew him. The tri- 
bute af esteem and affection given to his memory by 
the officers and men of his regiment is a noble and 
tender one, — something more than a mere formality 
of regret, a most earnest expression of profound feel- 
ing. If space would permit, it would give me pleas- 
ure to quote from letters written from the camp to his 
friends and relatives, filled with delicate expressions 
of sympathy and of genuine and heartfelt sorrow for 
a mutual loss. One says that he first learned of his 
death from Col. Marston who Avept like a child in 
speaking of him. I cannot forbear to read to you a 
short extract from a letter written by Col. Marston to 
the parents of Lieut. Rogers. After mentioning the 
circumstances of his death and burial, he concludes 
thus ; "His death is mourned, not onlv bv the mem- 
bers of his oaa n Company, by whom he was greatly 
beloved, but also by the officers and men of the whole 
regiment. You will find some consolation in your 
bereavement, in the reflection that your son died as a 
soldier would wish to die, bravely fighting for his 
country, for the Union, and for those institutions of 
government which have made us the freest and the 
most ])rosperous peoi)le ui)on earth. True, you have 



n 

lost a son ; but you will remember with pleasure and 
with pride that his life and his death were alike hon- 
orable." 

These are indeed consoling thoughts to you, my 
dear friends, who mourn the death of a son, of a 
husband, of a brother. You had reason to expect 
and were in a measure prepared for such a casualty. 
The dangers of war leave little room to expect a 
safe return to the daring soldier. Yet the realiza- 
tion could coiue only with the loss. Our hearts are 
pained for you and we all of us, I trust, appreciate 
the value of the sacrifice you have made and feel 
with you how heavv is the burden of sorrow vou bear. 
May 1 direct you to Him who bears our sorrows with 
an infinite strength and who made the Captain of our 
salvation perfect through suffering. I believe that 
the heart of the Infinite l''atlier, Avho gave His only 
begotten Son also to die in this great "war of good 
against evil on earth, feels also your sorrows and ac- 
cepts your sacrifice as holy and resembling His own. 
If He beholds even the sparrow's fall and numbers 
the hairs of our heads, not a tear falls, not a sigh is 
heaved from a human heart, not a generous, heroic 
act of self-devotion, is unnoticed or unappreciated by 
Him. In His name I pronounce your sacrifice beau- 
tiful and complete, if, v>ith it, you give your trust to 
His love and your submission to His will. You, who 
as parents, mourn with a natural grief the loss of a 
son, have learned, I trust, in the spirit of a beautiful 
faith to say : "Thy will be done." You are not whol- 
ly bereft. Other children remain to you, to be the 
support and honor of your declining years. You 
will be drawn closer together and gain in the sympa- 
thy of sorrow a sweeter mutual support. You, who, 



18 

as a Avife, have found your life thus early clouded 
with bereavement, so recently a joyful bride, so soon 
parted from him v/hose manly strength vt'ould have 
been your life-long support and womanly pride ; what 
words of sympathy can fathom your loss ^ Commun- 
ion alone with the Source of all strength and conso- 
lation and the healing ministry of time will enable 
you to accept your lot and bow submissively to God's 
heavy hand. You will learn at last to take a plea- 
sure in his memory, and the sharpness of regret will 
be blunted with time and the hope of meeting in a 
world, where war, and evil and death are never known. 
And you, Avho have lost a brother whom you loved, 
what lessons of duty and virtue come to you from his 
example. Since Providence has taken from your 
family one of the pillars of its pride and support, so 
much the more remains for you. If the home circle 
is narrowed, let it be so much the dearer and strong- 
er with affection. Let this bereavement be a bond 
of closer union for you all. You will feel how strong- 
ly God draws human hearts together and upwards to 
His own by taking from them the object they love 
best on earth. And finallv, let us all learn the lesson 
the occasion teaches — the beauty of a life given to 
duty — the glory of sacrifice for our country — the ac- 
ceptablcness of any service Avhich promotes a righte- 
ous end — the immortal worth of a soul that can feel 
motives nobler than the love of life — -the tenderness 
of the Divine Heart even while it permits man to 
suffer for virtue's sake — and by the drawing of the 
heart from earth to Heaven in the death of frieads, 
the certainty of a heme for all amid its scenes of glo- 
ry and spiritual progress. May it be ours also to say 
\\ith reference to life's duties and service : — "I have 
fought a good fight." 



t: 



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